


right next to you, and you don't even see it

by andibeth82



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Road Trips, Threesome, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12516132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: "I’m the good girl. The straight-A student, the perfect friend. I don’t…” Nancy pauses, her face twisted in frustration. “I don’t think about kissing my boyfriend and another guy I like at the same time.”“You set a faceless monster on fire and you slapped me,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “Also, we’re currently on some secret road trip, and you just told me you kissed that other guy I know you like while you’re dating me. I don’t think you’re so perfect anymore.”





	right next to you, and you don't even see it

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic at the end of the first season of Stranger Things, because it's me, and because I can't NOT ship a potential threesome. For a lot of reasons, it kept getting stalled after about 3K of story, largely because I just couldn't figure out how to get it to where it needed to be. Trust the show coming back after a year to kick me in the ass and force me to finish this, because I knew I'd regret if I didn't tell this story. 
> 
> What can I say? I have a lot of feelings about angsty teenagers figuring out their emotions.
> 
> Note that this is set right after season 1, so all canon is still as it was at the end of the series -- no rumors or storylines from season 2.

It’s been four months since monsters and secret underground worlds and presents under the Christmas tree. There are still nightmares and breakdowns and days when she’s scared to put her feet in the clear water of the bathroom tub, but finally -- _finally_ \-- Nancy thinks she can be honest when she tells her therapist she’s beginning to heal.

It’s Steve that helps, crawling into bed with her when anxiety hits out of nowhere, or handing her a coloring book and recognizing when she needs to be left alone.

Surprisingly -- or maybe not -- it’s Jonathan that helps, too.

These days, she’s up before the sun, sneaking out of her bedroom while the floors creak downstairs with the beginnings of morning from mom and dad and Mike. She circles the neighborhood, walks a few meters down the road, and ends up at the base of Hawkins woods. On a sunken log in chilly spring winds, she waits, the pink watch on her wrist clicking towards six and the sun starting to peek through the trees as the world yawns itself awake.

“Got your note.” She takes out a folded piece of notebook paper and waves it in his face. “You could’ve just talked to me, you know. I see you every day at school. And there _is_ this thing called a phone.”

Jonathan shrugs. “I know. I just figured it would be easier this way. I mean, you and Steve are --”

“Dating?”

Jonathan’s cheeks color in the dawning light. “Look, I don’t want to mess things up. I just like keeping things between us. Okay?”

“Very _Romeo and Juliet_ ,” she teases, offering him a smile as she wraps her arms around her knees. “How are the photography classes?”

“Uh, good. Good, I think.” He nods quickly at the woods. “Uh, my teacher says I’ve got a good eye and that she’s thinking of signing me up for some contests. Small prizes, you know, nothing too big, but it would be a way to get my work out there.”

“You deserve it,” Nancy says quietly. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs quietly, letting the silence of the woods overwhelm her until Jonathan tenses, pulling away.

“We can stop this, if you want. These -- these meetings. If you feel strange. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re my friend, Jonathan. Why would I feel _strange_?”

“I dunno.” Jonathan picks up a stick and draws shapes in the dirt, long hair swinging into his eyes as he casts his gaze downward. “I don’t want you to think you have to keep hanging out with me just because we went through something, you know? I mean, we can be friends and not…” He trails off. “Like I said, we don’t have to do this.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything for a long time. “My therapist makes me talk a lot about Barb,” she says finally. “I think it’s good for me, to talk about stuff. But sometimes, it just hurts. The world is too noisy, and I think it has been for a long time. When I’m with you, I’m comfortable. I don’t feel like I have to talk or explain myself. I can just be.”

Jonathan puts a hand on her knee and nods because even now, even though she still closes her eyes and sees monsters and stolen children and Christmas lights, she sometimes forgets everything that happened and what it meant for both of them to lose someone they cared about. Nancy pauses to take a breath.

“I like that.”

 

***

 

“JONATHAN BYERS.”

_Shit._

His brain works to comprehend the yelling while simultaneously curbing the urge to mumble _five more minutes_ because _fuck_ , didn’t he just go to sleep? And then the door to his bedroom is being flung open, the hard wood banging against the wall.

“Get up, get up, get up!”

“Aw, come on,” Jonathan mumbles as Will pulls the covers off his head and starts pummeling his shoulder with small hands. “Give it a rest, okay? Stop being annoying.”

He’s joking. He’s not really annoyed. Even months later, he’s not taking for granted the fact that he almost lost his brother for good. He feels every day for Nancy, because he knows she’s not getting Barb back, and that was only because Will had been smart enough to hide from the monster trying to kill him. Will had gotten lucky.

“Get out of here, you.” He sits up and grabs his brother, ruffling his hair. Will grins and twists out of his grasp, racing out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Jonathan flops back down on the pillow. He knew there were people, his mom included, who thought he’d be upset when Nancy chose to stay with Steve. But he wasn’t. Not really. He knew what it felt like to care for someone who had flaws, and while Steve had some lingering issues, at least he knew how to be a good boyfriend. Him and Nancy…sure, they had slept together, kind of, and it had been the best night of Jonathan’s life. But in that moment, Nancy had felt comfortable, and Nancy had felt safe. Jonathan didn’t really want to rock that boat, not when they had finally reached a place where they could sit in silence and feel like they didn’t have to hide from each other.

And anyway, it was better like this. God knows that if he really had tried to figure out a way to make their relationship work, it would have probably crashed and burned the way all Byers couples did.

“You coming home after school?” Joyce asks when he finally walks into the kitchen. There’s a bowl of cereal sitting on the table and he sits down in front of it, eating slowly.

“I think I’m gonna head into town and shoot some stuff,” he says after a moment while shoving cereal in his mouth.

Joyce smiles. “It’s good to see you back to your old self,” she says, kissing him on the head.

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees, though he’s pretty sure he’s nothing like his old self anymore. And even though there are obvious reasons for that, he still can’t quite figure out why.

 

***

 

Steve’s halfway home when he notices Jonathan Byers standing at the edge of the road.

He wishes he could say he knows what prompts him to pull over without thinking, other than the fact that the Byers kid has grown on him in the past few months. Maybe it’s because Nancy’s always forcing them to hang out together, or maybe it’s because Nancy never stops talking about him, or maybe it’s because he’s getting too soft after all.

“Looking good,” he calls as he gets out of the car, and Jonathan jumps before spinning around.

“Jesus!” He clutches his camera tighter. “A little warning next time, maybe?”

“Aw, where’s the fun in that?” Steve asks mischievously. “We’re _friends_ now, Byers. And friends get to harass each other, without beating each other up.”

Jonathan glares, but there’s a small smile tugging at his lips, and Steve finds himself staring at the way Jonathan’s mouth moves just slightly, enough that he’s able to show emotion but still imply that he’s not giving all his thoughts away. Maybe he had always made fun of Jonathan for being a loser, but lately, Steve realizes he would give just about anything to be able to keep people from seeing his feelings.

“So.” He leans against the car. “Still jealous I’m dating your crush?”

“Nope,” Jonathan says, fiddling with his camera. “Better you than me. Byers men don’t have the best track record in relationships.”

Steve snorts, thinking of Lonnie. “Ain’t that the truth.” He realizes at that moment that he really had no reason to stop and talk, other than he had felt like it, and quickly shoves his hands in his pockets to offset impending awkwardness.

“Sorry for interrupting. Just figured I’d say hi on my way home, and see how you were enjoying the camera.”

_Smooth, Harrington. It’s been about four months since you’ve given him the thing, it’s not like you’ve never seen him use it before._

Jonathan nods absently. “Good to see you. Say hi to Nance for me.”

“Sure.” Steve gets back in his car and as he turns away, he swears he hears the click and whir of a shutter. He almost opens the door again, but decides against it, and turns the key in the ignition.

It was probably a bird or something. Byers always did have a thing for attracting random creatures.

 

***

 

Nancy’s therapist tells her to make a list of things that make her happy. She says, “don’t think about it, just write whatever comes to mind.”

Nancy takes out a piece of notebook paper and a pen and writes late at night, after everyone has gone to bed.

_Steve._

_Jonathan._

_Mike._

_Ice cream._

_Barb._

She shoves the list in her diary and tries not think about what what all those things mean.

 

***

 

This is what Nancy realizes while Steve is making love to her under the bleachers, hidden from the world, a comforting hideout not at all like the one where she had once almost died: she loves these moments when it’s just her and Steve and the world, when there’s no noise and no parents, and no Tommy or Carol.

“We should take a road trip,” Nancy says after Steve makes her orgasm three times in a row. Steve looks up from where his tongue has been tracing swirls along her breast.

“A road trip?”

“Yes,” Nancy says, sitting up as Steve slides off of her, the condom hanging limply off his cock. “A road trip.” She reaches for her underwear and pulls it over her thighs. “My parents are going out of town for the weekend, and Mike’s going to stay with Will. I think they figure I’m old enough to take care of myself now. Or they trust I’m not going to run off to a house party behind their back.” She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“That’s my line,” Steve grumbles, discarding the condom while Nancy makes a face. “Why a road trip?”

Nancy shrugs. “I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. After Will…Barb…all of it.” She swallows down the lump in her throat that still materializes every time she says her best friend’s name. “I want to take advantage of that feeling. And I like being with you when the world isn’t staring at us.” She watches Steve nod slowly, and then takes a deep breath.

“I want Jonathan to come, too.”

“What --” Steve chokes on air. “ _Why_?”

“Because he could use an adventure. Also, he’s proven to be very useful if we need to kill random flesh-eating monsters.”

“You _really_ think --”

“Steve Harrington, do not tell me that monsters don’t exist in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. You and I both know what we saw.”

Steve purses his lips. “You wanna take a road trip. With me. And you wanna invite Byers.”

“Well, maybe I want him to make us a scrapbook.”

“ _Nancy_.”

“So what if I want to invite Jonathan?” she asks in exasperation. “Friends take road trips together all the time. And last I checked, we were all friends, right?”

“Friends,” Steve repeats. “Look, I get that you guys went through something. I understand that. And I like the kid, but there’s a difference between hanging out and being in a car together for seventy-two hours, Nance.”

“It’s not like we’re going to be in the car the whole time,” Nancy argues offhandedly, reaching for the rest of her clothes. “Are you saying you can’t handle it?”

“Of course I can handle it!” Steve retorts defensively.

Nancy smiles. “Well, good. Besides, we could _possibly_ do it on the car roof, if you were interested. In the middle of nowhere. Under the stars. That’s kind of romantic, right?”

“With Byers sleeping underneath us in the passenger seat?”

“Hey, who knows. Maybe he’d enjoy the show.”

“Nancy Wheeler.” Steve crawls over her and Nancy smiles as their lips touch.

“Yes?”

“I love when you talk dirty.”

 

***

 

The thing about Jonathan is that he’s not hard to find. Nine times out of ten, he’s in the darkroom, and even though Nancy only likes going in there on occasion -- because dark places are still a trigger after Barb and the Upside-Down -- she always feels safer when Jonathan is there.

“Hey you.” She closes the door behind her as she enters and he looks up with a grin.

“Becoming a regular in the photography cave, huh?”

“Maybe,” Nancy admits, coloring at the fact that he’s recognized she’s been dropping in more frequently over the past few months. “Maybe I just like watching you work.”

“And here I thought you actually cared about the craft,” he teases, carefully laying a photo down. “What’s up?”

“My parents are going out of town this weekend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jonathan looks up and Nancy nods, leaning against the door.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of going on a road trip. It might be nice to get out of Hawkins for awhile.”

Jonathan nods and walks over to the wall, rearranging the already-developed photos that are hanging crookedly. “Sounds good. You, uh, planning to go with Steve?”

“And you.”

Jonathan almost trips as he backs up against the wall. “ _Me_? _Why_?”

“Because I like spending time with you, and I want you around. Also, I think you and Steve can be really good friends, and maybe this will give you a chance to hang out when we’re not at school. Or killing monsters,” she adds as an afterthought.

“What, uh.” He crosses his arms, gesturing towards the door. “What does Steve think about all this?”

“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” Nancy lies. “Come on, Jonathan. You need this. We both do. Don’t you want to get out of town for a bit and just be yourself without worrying about anyone else?”

“Aren’t there other things you could be doing rather than taking a road trip? You know, like SAT prep?”

“I think the SATs can wait a week,” Nancy says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to fail a test just because I took three days off to drive out of Hawkins. Plus, we're off from school on Friday, anyway. Holiday weekend. Why do you think my parents are going away in the first place?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jonathan scratches a scar on his chin. “Um. Anything I should bring?”

Nancy smiles, pointing to the shelf behind him. “Yeah. Bring your camera.”

 

***

 

At nine on Friday morning, Steve rolls up to Joyce Byers’ house with Nancy in the passenger seat. Jonathan stumbles out of the house, sliding into the car with a backpack and his camera hanging around his neck.

“Here,” he says, handing a cassette to Nancy when he closes the door. “Thought we could use some tunes for the road, so I made us a mixtape.”

“Oh, that’s just great,” Steve mutters as Nancy pops the tape in. She glares at him.

“Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve glances in the rearview mirror. “Remind me, why is he here again?”

“Because Nancy wanted me here.”

“Because he’s going to take pictures.”

“God help us,” Steve mutters as AC/DC blares through the stereo.

 

***

 

They drive three hours before they stop for food at a diner that’s barely staffed and even less filled, sliding into a corner booth and grabbing menus ravenously. Nancy orders chicken fingers and a soda while Steve orders a burger and Jonathan orders a salad.

“A salad? Really, Byers?”

“My mom raised me to eat healthy,” Jonathan mumbles, shoving his camera onto the table. He waits a moment and then picks it up, bringing it to his face and pressing down on the large black button.

“You gonna take pictures of our food, too?”

“Stop it.” Nancy swats his hands away. “I _want_ you to take pictures, Jonathan. This is good for you. You have to be bored taking photos around town.”

“It depends,” Jonathan says, turning the camera over in his hands, letting hair fall into his face. “I’ve found some interesting subjects.”

Steve snorts. “Aside from flesh eating alien monsters, I’m not sure what else in Hawkins can be interesting. Unless you’re peeking into someone’s bedroom again.”

Jonathan shrugs, and Nancy swears she can see his cheeks darkening. “I don’t know. You can make anything interesting, if you know what to look for.”

 

***

 

They stop again at a gas station, where Steve and Jonathan go to the bathroom. Nancy picks up a postcard.

She addresses it to Barb and writes out how much she misses her. She thinks about how Barb would laugh at her, going on a road trip with two guys she likes way too much, one of whom she thought would never change.

She puts it in her pocket and walks back to the car.

 

***

 

For the night, they stop at a small motel. The rooms are tiny, and not too well kept, but since no one really wants to stay there it means that Nancy is able to use her bargaining skills to get them a nice suite -- nice by the motel’s standards, at least.

Except when she comes back to the car and holds out one room key, Jonathan and Steve -- who have been leaning against the car in an entirely compromising way -- both look at her like she’s a Demogorgon.

“What?”

Steve gestures towards her hand. “One room?”

“Why not?” Nancy challenges. “It’s not like we’re strangers.”

“Yeah, but we’re _dating_ ,” Steve says, making a face. “It’s a privacy thing. And Byers is --”

“Byers is what?” Jonathan interrupts icily. “What the hell is wrong with me, Steve? Say it.”

Both boys go silent when Nancy clears her throat loudly, Steve looking down at his shoes and Jonathan biting his lip. For a long time, no one says anything, not even Nancy.

“It’s fine,” Jonathan says finally. “Y’know, we’re all here together. We might as well just stay together. Besides, last time we were seperated, bad things happened.”

Steve shakes his head adamantly. “No way.”

Jonathan groans. “You _really_ want separate rooms?”

“Steve and I will take the main bed,” Nancy announces, stepping between them. “And Jonathan can take the couch. If anyone has a problem with that, we can all sleep in the car.”

Jonathan nods mutely. Steve throws up his hands.

“Alright, fine. But only cause I like you, Nance. And I call shotgun tomorrow morning.”

“You’re riding shotgun _anyway_ ,” Jonathan mutters as he opens the car door, taking out his bag. Nancy hides a smile and walks behind them the whole way to the room. Her intention is to let them get used to tolerating each other by forcing them to interact.

Instead, she finds herself staring at both of their asses, realizing that she wouldn’t mind seeing Jonathan’s body the same way she was routinely seeing Steve’s.

 

***

 

Nancy reads. She reads all the time, so much so that Steve wants to make fun of her for it, but he’s trying to get better at saying things that are openly insulting. But sitting around and reading or staring at boring beige walls is not Steve’s idea of a good night, unless those things include cuddling or sex, both of which he’s not about to start having with Jonathan Byers in the next room.

“Mind if I go outside for a bit?”

Nancy shrugs, barely looking up from her book. Steve takes that as a yes, and gets up from the bed, rooting round in his bag until he finds what he’s looking for. Tucking the thin pencil case and drawing pad under his arm, he grabs the motel key from the dresser and walks outside.

It’s chilly but nice, and the air seems less stagnant than it is in Hawkins. Less small town pollution, maybe, or maybe it’s just that the open parts of the midwest have less bullshit than his hometown. In any case, it’s freeing, and as he opens his pad and starts to sketch aimlessly, he finds himself thinking that maybe Nancy was right. Maybe he did need this break.

 _Click_.

Steve’s head snaps up just in time for a flash to blind him, and he scrunches up his face in annoyance. “Argh, _Byers_!”

“Sorry,” Jonathan apologizes hurriedly. “I was trying to get you from the back, and I didn’t know the flash would automatically pop like that.” He quickly fiddles with the knobs on his camera, and Steve sighs.

“It’s fine,” he says tiredly, picking up the pencil he’s dropped in surprise. He can see Jonathan frowning in his peripheral vision.

“You draw?”

Steve quickly closes the pad he’s holding. “No. I mean, yes. Kind of. I don’t do it a lot. No one knows I do it. I started drawing when my parents were fighting. It helped me tune everything out.”

“That’s kind of why I started photography,” Jonathan offers. “It was a distraction.” He glances down at the pad, where half a portrait is peeking out from between the folds. “You should draw more.”

“I dunno.” Steve grimaces. “I don’t think I’m that great.”

“You’re better than you think,” Jonathan says with a small smile. “Everyone’s a novice at something when they first start out.”

Steve realizes he actually feels _calmed_ by Jonathan’s words, and looks up with a small smile. “You know, Byers, you have a good profile.”

“Thanks?” Jonathan looks confused, and Steve laughs.

“No, I mean...your profile. I remember some lessons from my drawing classes. There are people that have naturally perfect contours, and you’ve got it.”

Jonathan’s smile grows wider. “I’ll remember that,” he says lightly. “Especially when you’re yelling at me for taking your photo again.” He lifts his camera in a sort of salute and then turns around, walking towards the parking lot.

Steve goes back to drawing, sketching idly, trying to pretend that their conversation was something normal -- after all, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. And he was even cordial about the whole exchange.

And yet, he can’t get Jonathan Byers’ eyes out of his mind.

 

***

 

Despite Steve’s reservations about all of them staying in the same room, the night turns out fine. Nancy and Steve end up doing more cuddling than anything else, but for the most part, it doesn’t feel any different than being home and sleeping in her own room with Mike next door.

So she thinks it’s strange when Steve, who also seems otherwise fine, is jumpy and nervous every time the three of them are in close quarters. Nancy finally calls him out on it when they stop at an overlook during a driving break.

“What’s going on?” she asks as they walk towards the more scenic part of the overlook, leaving Jonathan by the car. Steve shrugs off her hand, which she’s put on his shoulder.

“Nance, you have to ask me if I’m okay every time I don’t smile? I told you, I’m trying with this whole Byers thing.”

“I wouldn’t call you out on something if I didn’t think you needed to talk,” Nancy posits.

Steve’s eyes curve to the left. “It’s dumb.”

“It’s dumb if you don’t tell me, because that implies you’re ashamed,” Nancy points out with an eyebrow raise. “And I can’t imagine Steve Harrington being ashamed of anything.”

Steve hesitates and then steps forward, kissing her aggressively. Nancy isn’t exactly surprised -- she likes kissing Steve more than she’ll admit to, and she’s been meaning to steal some extra affection. But she’s not sure why he’s doing this when she’d specifically asked him about something that she figured merited some important conversation.

They break apart, Steve’s lips still close to hers, and then --

“I think Byers hit on me last night.”

For a moment, Nancy’s not sure how to respond. She wants to pull out the same distraction tactic that he had just used and kiss _him_ , but she doesn’t think that’s the way to go about this.

“What?”

“Ugh.” Steve pushes two fingers through his thick hair. “I told you it was dumb.”

“I didn’t think Jonathan was that kind of guy,” Nancy says slowly, her gaze traveling to the edge of the cliff.

“Yeah, me neither. But he said some stuff to me last night when we were outside together...it really wigged me out, okay Nance?”

Nancy nods, still struggling to find some appropriate words. There’s a part of her that’s admittedly relieved, because maybe this is how she works through her own feelings of liking both of the men she considers important in her life. But she couldn’t do that or even address that without knowing if _they_ had similar feelings.

Steve was a lot of things, and the town liked to think he was shallow and dumb. He could be shallow, and he was dumb about some things, but Nancy knew that he was smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for. And if Steve was saying this about Jonathan…

“Want me to talk to him?”

Steve looks horrified. “And tell him that I told you what he did? Do you want his mom to have another heart attack when a second kid goes missing?”

He has a point, Nancy considers. Still, she doesn’t think it’s wrong to bring it up. She trusted their relationship, and she trusted how he could react. Regardless, they were together for at least another 24 hours. If she didn’t say anything at all, she would end up screaming from frustration.

“Okay,” she lies. She smiles and kisses him again. “At least try and take in the scenery while we’re here. Hawkins doesn’t have these kind of views.”

Steve smiles back, walking away towards a different area of the overlook. Nancy makes sure he’s distracted enough, posture hunched in quiet, contemplative thought, before she walks back to the car. Jonathan is perched precariously on the roof, and Nancy waits until he’s finished taking pictures before she distracts him with a big wave.

“You need a haircut,” Nancy says, running her fingers through his dark strands as he slides off the car. Jonathan laughs quietly.

“A haircut wasn’t on the agenda for this trip.”

“But hitting on Steve was?”

“Jesus, Nancy!” His eyes grow wide, filled with fear and worry. “What the fuck? No one hit on anyone!”

“Okay, then.” She pauses, putting her elbows on the car hood. “I’m just saying, it would be okay if you did, you know. Hit on him. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I didn’t,” Jonathan repeats quickly, and Nancy realizes that he’s so rattled he hasn’t even addressed what she’s implied in her response. “I _didn’t_ hit on him. What kind of person do you think I am?”

And this is where Nancy does use her method of distraction, putting her hands on his shoulders and kissing him on the lips. It’s quick and it’s over in two seconds, but it feels like it lasts longer, and the moment she stops kissing him she wants to start again.

“You’re the kind of person who doesn’t care about other people’s opinions,” Nancy answers, spinning around. She marches towards the edge of the overlook, because her heart is suddenly beating way too fast. When she glances over, she sees that Steve is still standing to her right, back turned in her direction. Jonathan remains behind her, stunned and unmoving -- what she realizes is the formation of a perfectly unintentional triangle.

“Nancy Wheeler,” she says an imitation of Barb, speaking to the wind and open sky. “I may be the lesbian, but you never cease to amaze me.”

 

***

 

They drive south, stopping for food at a run-down gas station, and then drive north. At some point, Steve loses track of where they’re going, though Nancy assures him she’s been keeping track and they weren’t as far away from Hawkins as they thought they were. There was no reason why they wouldn’t be back by that night with no one any the wiser about their whereabouts.

Jonathan plays more shitty music. A camera clicks every so often, causing his hands to white-knuckle the steering wheel. Nancy puts his hands on his leg, and he doesn’t mind, but there’s a part of him that whispers it’s not _her_ fingers he suddenly wants to hold.

He doesn’t open his mouth about anything and he pretends that nothing is wrong, and he thanks some higher being that he’s had years of perfecting the “don’t look at me and don’t talk to me” vibe that made him so intimidating.

The thing is, you didn’t just kill monsters with someone and then wake up the next morning or the next month fantasizing about them.

You just _didn’t_.

Especially if you were Steve Harrington.

 

***

 

Between school and Barb and boyfriends that were either too old or too young, Nancy has had years of experience covering up her feelings. She’s good at it, and she’s better at it than her mom is, because she can tell when her mom is unhappy or lying about something. So she pretends nothing is wrong as they continue to drive, except all she can think about is kissing Jonathan and kissing Steve, and then she wonders what it would feel like if she kissed them both at the same time.

It wasn’t just that they were getting along better, or that they were both equally a part of her in some way -- what they had gone through with the Upside-Down had bound them together more tightly than they would probably ever admit, but it wasn’t the thing that held them together. There was a part of Steve in Nancy, and a part of Jonathan in Nancy, and in some ways, like killing a monster, those parts went hand-in-hand. She wonders if that’s what she’s been missing in her recovery, that maybe Steve by himself or Jonathan by himself hadn’t been enough to lift her out of the continuous veil of misery that she’s tried so hard to brush away.

Then she thinks about how stupid that thought is. Threesomes, or being a bad girl, that wasn’t what she was supposed to be doing. She was trying too hard to be different and edgy.

But she had still kissed Jonathan, and the more she thinks about keeping it from Steve, the more she can feel a phantom awkwardness grow between them. When they stop for a bathroom break, she pretends that there’s something wrong with the car.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah?” Steve is bent forward, looking for an issue that doesn’t exist. Nancy opens her mouth but can’t seem to make words come out, even though it shouldn’t be this hard. She trusted Steve. Together, they had seen monsters that should only exist in storybooks. By all accounts, this was nothing.

“Nothing bad with the car,” Steve says, straightening up. “Tire’s a little flat, but we don’t need to worry about it.”

Nancy nods, still at a loss for words, and Steve narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Nance?”

“I kissed Jonathan.”

“Nancy --”

“I like Jonathan,” she repeats, talking fast. “I mean, I like him, but I also like you, and I...I’m the good girl. The straight-A student, the perfect friend. I don’t…” Nancy pauses, her face twisted in frustration. “I don’t think about kissing my boyfriend and another guy I like at the same time.”

“You set a faceless monster on fire and you slapped me,” Steve says with a roll of his eyes. “Also, we’re currently on some secret road trip, and you just told me you _kissed_ that other guy I know you like while you’re dating me. I don’t think you’re so perfect anymore.”

Nancy winces. “I thought you’d be mad.”

“About what? Byers?” Steve scoffs. “Nancy, look. I’m not thrilled that you told me this, but you can do what you want, okay? And you still want to be with me, right?”

Nancy nods, taking his hand and entwining their fingers together. “Of course I do.”

“Okay. Then we’re fine.”

Something about the way Steve is talking makes her anxious, but all in all, he seems pretty content and she doesn’t want to disturb whatever kind of strange calm is currently simmering between them, especially when he’s taken so long to come around to the idea of Jonathan being with them in the first place.

Still.

Nancy manages to smile. “Then we’re fine.”

 

***

 

Given everything that’s transpired, Nancy decides that everyone needs to get out of the car and into some state of relaxation. It’s worth it when Steve’s mouth drops open in surprise as she hands him a small laminated card, because in all the time she’s spent with him so far, he’s always been the one who lived on the edge and surprised _her_.

“Where did you get these?”

“My little secret,” Nancy says smugly, handing another fake ID to Jonathan, who takes it slowly. He looks up through a curtain of messy hair.

“We’re not going to get caught?”

Nancy gives him a look. “How many times have we gotten caught doing things in Hawkins?”

Jonathan doesn’t respond, and fingers the ID carefully. “I bet the bars out here don’t care as much,” he says. “They probably get underage kids all the time.”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t look underaged,” Steve boasts, standing up and flexing his bicep. Nancy bites back a laugh, and she notices that Jonathan surreptitiously avoids looking in his direction.

“Lucky for _us_ , we’ve killed a demon, so sneaking into a bar without getting caught should be no problem.”

For once, neither Jonathan or Steve tries to argue with her.

The bar that they find is only about ten minutes from the motel they’re staying at, and Nancy vetoes taking the car because she’s not going to be responsible for any of them getting behind the wheel in an intoxicated state, especially with fake IDs on them. It’s perfect for what she wants, dingy and low-lit -- a dive bar in every single way, from the floor that looks like it could use a wash to the bartender behind the counter who moves slowly and chugs from his own stein when no one is looking.

“To road trips,” Nancy announces when they’ve been served successfully. She raises a glass of Budweiser.

“To faceless monsters,” Steve adds, raising his own glass. Jonathan lifts his glass as well, clinking against both of them.

“To new feelings.”

Nancy and Steve exchange glances, and Steve takes a large gulp of beer in the silence that follows.

“You know something we don’t, Byers?” Steve asks cheekily when he comes up for air. Jonathan looks down and takes a smaller sip of beer.

“I mean, I like both of you. I really like spending time with both of you.”

“This isn’t a marriage proposal,” Steve says as Nancy shoots him a warning glance. Jonathan looks down at the ground.

“You see people in photos,” he continues, as if he hasn’t even heard Steve’s words. “I’ve been using my camera a lot, and...and you can’t really see it sometimes when you take pictures. But I see it when I hit the button.” He shrugs shyly, eyes still focused on the floor. “Maybe it’s just not as secret as we all thought.”

For a long moment, the only sound aside from loud bar noise and the bartender burping quietly is Steve pounding back the remainder of his beer. Nancy puts a hand on his arm.

“Steve.”

“What? He’s got a point.” Steve signals for another drink. “It’s not so secret, right Nancy? You kissed Byers, and we’ve had sex, and it’s not like he’s being subtle about things. He hit on me.”

Jonathan moves so quickly that he spills beer all over the table. “I -- what?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know what you’ve been doing,” Steve says airly, his voice thickening. “The stuff about drawing, all the pictures...I mean, you’re about as subtle as that goddamn monster we killed!”

Jonathan gets up, sprinting towards the door, leaving his beer on the table. Nancy glares at Steve but before she can open her mouth, Jonathan turns around and fixes both of them with a stare that’s defiant.

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

For a moment, it’s like no one else exists, even though the bar is full of people who are loud and intoxicated, even though music is blaring from the speakers above them. Nancy’s world shrinks to a narrowed view where there’s only silence, a tipsy and increasingly frustrated Steve, and a timid but determined Jonathan.

And then Steve explodes.

“Jesus, what the actual fuck are you trying to do? Do you expect me to shout the words _I’m gay_?”

“No one said that,” Jonathan tries, and Steve pounds his fist angrily against the bartop.

“You just implied you were hitting on me, Byers. If that’s not gay, what the hell do you call it?”

Jonathan shrugs. “I dunno…I mean, why do we have to use labels at all?”

Steve stares at Jonathan and groans. “You are so dumb, Byers. My god, you are _so dumb_.” He lurches forward, nearly falling off the seat, and stumbles towards the bathroom. Jonathan starts to get up, but Nancy grabs his wrist before he can move.

“Leave him,” she orders. “He’ll calm down.”

Jonathan looks upset but obeys, sinking back down into his chair. “I didn’t…I mean, I thought…”

“It’s okay.” She pulls him towards her and kisses him gently. “I know you were just trying to help. You can’t force him to accept what he’s feeling, though. He needs to work it out on his own. And he’s Steve. He might not accept things so easily.”

Jonathan swallows. “I messed it all up,” he says in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have said anything about his drawings, I shouldn’t have -- this is all wrong.”

“No,” Nancy says, scooting closer and putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m _glad_ you came.” She’s warm from the alcohol, and it spreads through her bones like a soft fire. “I wanted you here. And maybe...maybe this is a good thing.”

“How?” Jonathan asks miserably. “I made a fool of myself, and Steve won’t talk to me ever again. And let’s face it, Nance. No matter how many times you kiss me or how many monsters we kill, you’ll still be with him, because he’s boyfriend material. I’m not. I’ve just cemented my status as the asshole who makes things more complicated.”

Nancy sits up and grabs her drink, downing it steadily. After she’s drained the whole glass she closes her eyes, steadies herself, and takes Jonathan’s hand again.

“Then let’s go talk to Steve.”

She doesn’t give Jonathan a chance to respond, yanking him off the stool and dragging him across the floor. When they get to the other side of the bar, she knocks once on the door of the men’s bathroom. Steve opens it after a moment, face flushed and angry, and doesn’t even acknowledge Jonathan standing behind her.

“What are you --”

Nancy grabs Jonathan’s wrist and pulls him into the bathroom with her, then shoves Steve back against the wall and kicks the door shut. Nancy immediately starts kissing him, her hand still entwined with Jonathan’s.

“Nance --”

Steve barely gets a second to breathe before Nancy breaks away, shoving Jonathan in front of her. When they both meet -- lips touching, eyes wide -- Nancy holds her breath. For a moment, she isn’t sure whether she’s done something incredibly wrong or incredibly right.

Steve moves first, deepening the kiss. Nancy watches Jonathan’s body morph from terrifyingly rigid to totally relaxed, leaning in and wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, fingers tangling in his messy hair. It’s almost as if they’re figuring out how far they can push each other, what this feeling really is, because they don’t stop or come up for air until Nancy clears her throat loudly.

“Sorry,” Jonathan apologizes, face flushed with arousal, hair swinging into his eyes. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s just run a marathon. “We, uh --”

“Forgot I was here?” Nancy interjects. “That’s nice.”

Steve smirks, holding out his hand. He brings her close again and this time, when they kiss, it’s a little more passionate but it feels less awkward and angry than when she had first barged into the bathroom. After a moment, she realizes that while Steve is kissing her, Jonathan is standing behind her, almost straddling her, placing kisses along her the back of her neck.

Nancy lets out a soft moan and breaks Steve’s kiss, moving her lips down his neck as Steve leans over and kisses Jonathan again. She’s sandwiched by both boys as she works her way down his body, before turning and undoing the button on Jonathan’s jeans.

“Yes?” Nancy asks, looking up at Jonathan. She knows she needs to ask Steve too but she’s less concerned about that; they had sex all the time and this was technically all consensual, anyway. But her and Jonathan had never done more than explore a very tame lap of first base.

Jonathan traces a finger down Steve’s face, and there’s a glazed over look in his eyes, almost as if he’s seeing him for the first time. Nancy wonders if, in a way, he is.

“Yes,” he says dazedly.

Nancy takes a deep breath and stands up. “If we’re doing this -- anything like this -- it needs to be consensual,” she says firmly. She takes Jonathan and Steve’s hands. “I need a verbal agreement that we’re doing this because we want to, not because we’re making one another do it, and not because we’re angry or hurt or sad about something that we’re trying to fix. This is a mutual decision for all of us. Yes?”

“Yes,” Jonathan repeats, this time more strongly. Nancy turns to Steve.

“Yes,” he echoes, his voice steady and clear.

Nancy smiles.

“Yes,” she adds, working on Jonathan’s jeans again, a thrill jolting through her stomach like a lightning bolt.

 

***

 

They leave the bathroom mostly as they found it, cleaning up as much as they can, even though as Jonathan points out, this place has probably seen worse. Nancy is less concerned about the cleanliness and more concerned about what people might think when they see three people walking out of the bathroom together after hogging it for forty-five minutes, but she had also wanted to take her time, and, well. Suffice it to say that she hadn’t been disappointed. She’d known Steve was good in bed, and Jonathan was even better.

It seems stupid and strange to try to go back and finish their drinks like they’ve just had any kind of normal encounter, so Nancy pays the bill and they walk back to the motel in silence, hands brushing against waists and flirtatious glances being thrown in each other’s direction when one of them isn’t paying attention.

“What did we just do?”

“Well.” Nancy swallows as they approach the motel. “Theoretically, I think we had a threesome. Or at least something resembling a threesome.”

“And I thought I’d seen everything,” Steve mutters, walking to the car and opening the door. He takes out a small bag he’s kept in the backseat and pats down a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and leaning against the trunk, blowing smoke into the air.

“You want?” he asks after a moment, holding the cigarette towards her. Nancy shakes her head and Steve shrugs, taking another drag.

“Yeah, you’re right. Not worth it, anyway.”

Nancy smiles and looks up at the sky, noticing how brightly the stars seem to be shining. She wonders if Barb is up there somewhere; she’d never quite accepted the whole thing about people being angels of some sort when they died, but it’s not such a bad theory. It was nice to think about how Barb was possibly somewhere close, looking down on her wherever she was in a given moment.

“You okay?” Jonathan asks, circling his arms around her waist. Nancy nods, leaning back into his hold.

“I wish Barb was here.”

“Mmm.” Jonathan buries his face in her hair. “You would’ve told her about this?”

Nancy laughs quietly. “Maybe. We did tell each other everything. But this is something I kind of want to keep to myself.” She turns around and smiles again. “Is this what you want?”

“Is this what _you_ want?” Jonathan asks seriously. “You’re still with Steve, Nance. This doesn’t have to be a thing if you don’t want to make it complicated.”

Nancy considers his words, because he’s right. This could be a one-time thing, a reflection of their feelings during a time when they’re supposed to be exploring their emotions because they can’t figure out what they’ve just experienced. Jonathan would be disappointed, but he’d understand. It’s not like she would never kiss him again, now that the chasm had been opened and words had been said out loud. It just wouldn’t be as official as it was when she hid under the bleachers and made out with Steve during football practice.

But it could also be the start of something that gave them all exactly what they needed to move forward.

“I think…” She trails off, looking at Steve, who has just stubbed out his cigarette. “I think I do want this. For a little bit. If we all agree.”

“Look, I know you’re the rebel here Nance, but I don’t know if I’m ready to just be...this,” Steve says, moving away from the car.

“I know,” Nancy agrees. “And you don’t have to be. This is...this is complicated, and I want to enjoy it and see where it goes. I think we all owe each other some way to feel things without being judged. But we also need to know what we’re feeling before we commit to anything.”

“Good thing we have a year or so left in this hell town,” Jonathan says bitterly. “A lot of time to figure out any kind of commitment.”

“Then we don’t commit,” Nancy decides. “We figure things out between us, and keep things between us. As long as we’re on the same page, that should be enough to make this work, right?”

Steve nods slowly. “So I gotta share you with another man?”

“Well, that’s one way to think about it,” Nancy teases. “But I have to share you with another guy, so I think we both have to compromise.”

Steve scrunches up his face. “That’s fair,” he concedes, looking over at Jonathan. “And I never thought I’d admit it, but the guy I’m sharing you with is actually pretty cute.”

Jonathan blushes furiously, red riding up the side of his neck..

“I told you. You can make anything interesting, if you know what to look for.”

 

***

 

They sleep in the same bed that night. There’s no sex, but Nancy wakes up wrapped in both Jonathan and Steve’s arms and feels warm and protected and content. Jonathan’s feet grasp hers under the covers, cold and tight, and Steve’s breath tickles her bare chest where his head is pressed into her breast.

They get up together but don’t talk about anything. The conversation is light, and maybe they all smile a little more, but maybe there’s a little bit of hesitancy and tip-toeing around something suddenly more real than imagine.

It’s like something’s changed but for once, that change isn’t necessarily bad.

“What’s wrong?”

Nancy walks out of the shower, hair plastered to the back of her neck. She drops her towel, reaching for her discarded clothes, and doesn’t bother to acknowledge that both Steve and Jonathan do a double take.

Steve’s stares at the map spread out in front of him, looking forlorn. “It’s just...after all of this, we just go home?”

Nancy looks at Steve, then at Jonathan. “Well, there’s still stuff to do,” she says slowly. “Photography classes...SATs...football. But if we have what we have, maybe home’s not so bad anymore, right?”

She knows what he means, though. This trip wasn’t supposed to happen this way. This trip wasn’t supposed to be anything groundbreaking, and she certainly never would have guessed anything like this would happen. But maybe that was the point of getting out of town, or looking at things differently, the way Jonathan tried to do so often. Maybe there was always more lurking behind the shadows and below the surface, and maybe sometimes, not everything there was bad.

Steve smiles. Jonathan nods. Nancy kisses them both before she finishes getting dressed.

 

***

 

A week after they get back to Hawkins, a photograph shows up in Steve’s locker.

It’s a black and white print taken on their first day on the road, the shot Jonathan had taken when he found Steve drawing on the porch. _Sometimes people don’t really say what they’re thinking,_ says the words written on the back of the photo, scrawled in Jonathan’s handwriting. _But you capture the right moment, it says more._

Steve smiles and tucks the photographs carefully into his bag.

(Nancy gets one, too.)

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr for more fic @isjustprogress.


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